


I will keep watch, I will water the yard

by iphigenias



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Domesticity, F/F, Post-Season/Series 05, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24262588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iphigenias/pseuds/iphigenias
Summary: Adora comes up behind her as she’s staring out the window. She hears her footsteps, and doesn’t jump when arms wrap loosely around her waist; relaxes into them, sighs, leans her head back into Adora’s shoulder and looks out into the night and thinks: this, this.*Catra, Adora, and a bed.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 53
Kudos: 995





	I will keep watch, I will water the yard

The way we move through time and space, or only time.  
The way it's night for many miles, and then suddenly  
it's not, it's breakfast  
and you're standing in the shower for over an hour,  
holding the bar of soap up to the light.  
I will keep watch. I will water the yard.

— Richard Siken, 'Meanwhile'

Catra can’t sleep on her own. That first night at Bright Moon, after—everything, she’d hovered at the door of Adora’s room, watching her dispose of first jacket, then boots, before flopping face first onto the bed. Catra expects her to start snoring straight away, but after a minute she sits up, looks at Catra in the doorframe. “Coming?” she asks, not smiling, but the expression on her face is soft all the same and Catra isn’t going to second-guess herself this time. She steps across the threshold—one, two, _three_ into Adora’s arms, who buries her face into Catra’s stomach and makes a contented sound in the back of her throat. Catra lifts her hands, unsure—places one on Adora’s neck, the other in her hair, careful, like glass. Adora makes the sound again and turns so she can peek out from Catra’s shirt.

“Good?” she asks gently, careful like Catra is. Catra pauses, nods.

“Good,” she repeats softly, shifting forward so her knees touch the mattress and then she’s on top of Adora who looks up at her, solemn. Moves a hand to touch Catra’s ear, maybe, or come to rest under her chin—but changes her mind halfway through and launches into Catra’s ribs instead, tickling mercilessly. Catra yelps and tries to jump off but Adora has her, tight, and she’s _strong_ , even when she’s not She-Ra—“I give up, you win, you win!” Catra concedes, and Adora is smiling like Catra’s said _I love you_ again and, well, maybe she has—not in so many words, but then again they’ve never really needed them to understand each other.

“Stay?” Adora asks, not looking away from Catra, and Catra does.

That’s the start of it.

She’s still not used to the stars. How cold and distant they’d looked from Prime’s ship—and it isn’t like they look any different, here, not really, so maybe it’s Catra who’s changed, but on Etheria they are bright pinpricks of light and if she near closes her eyes, not quite all the way, she can almost reach out and scoop them from the sky.

Adora comes up behind her as she’s staring out the window. She hears her footsteps, and doesn’t jump when arms wrap loosely around her waist; relaxes into them, sighs, leans her head back into Adora’s shoulder and looks out into the night and thinks: this, this.

“Come to bed,” Adora whispers against her temple, and the words tickle where they land. Catra lifts a hand, blind, searching until she finds Adora’s chin; circles it around to rest on her cheek, brushing her thumb along the bone.

“Not yet,” she says quietly, and as Adora breathes out Catra feels it. They watch the stars until Catra’s eyes grow heavy and for once she doesn’t protest when Adora carries her to bed.

“Catra.” There’s a hand shaking her awake. Catra doesn’t startle like she should, like she used to. She opens her eyes and Adora is standing over her, hair loose the way Catra likes it. She reaches up to catch a strand in her claws and Adora smiles at the touch.

“Budge over,” she says, sliding into the bed. She’s carrying something; waits until Catra sits up with her then rests it gently over her lap, looking pleased with herself. It’s a tray laden with food—Catra recognises the bread with jam, the glass of sparkling purple juice in the corner, but there’s a bowl full of fruit she hasn’t seen before and a pastry to one side she’s glimpsed in the dining hall but never tried. In the corner opposite the juice is a single flower in a vase—its petals are open, facing Catra, and when she brushes her finger along them they feel soft, like velvet.

“This is all for me?” Catra asks quietly, and Adora laughs, runs her finger down the slope of Catra’s nose.

“Of course, silly.”

Catra stares at the food and at Adora, who is smiling.

“Why?”

“Oh, you know,” Adora answers, smoothing her hand over the blanket. She’s blushing, which is adorable, and still manages to take Catra’s breath away, and there’s something so gentle about the expression on her face that Catra never wants it to change. She looks up. “I love you, dummy,” she says simply, kissing Catra’s shoulder, and if Catra feels like she’s about to cry then no one needs to know—except Adora, who wipes under her eyes afterwards, kisses the salt from her fingers and then kisses Catra like it’s nothing, except it’s everything, and the kiss feels like she knows it.

“Okay, you take that corner, I’ll do the side.”

Catra grips the bedsheet so hard her knuckles go white. Adora’s hair is pulled back and she’s looking at the unmade bed with such fierce determination Catra is shocked it hasn’t burst into flames. She tucks the sheet around and under the corner of the bed as instructed. Adora takes her side, pulling the sheet taut—and it flies right off the corner to land in a crumpled mess in the middle of the bed.

“I didn’t do it,” Catra says automatically.

“No, it’s fine,” Adora says, blowing hair out of her eyes. “We just have to think about this logically.”

They try again; Adora tucks her side in first and stands back, hands on triumphant hips. Catra looks away to tuck her corner in. She pulls at a creased part of the fabric—Adora’s “ _no!_ ” is too late—and the sheet comes loose in her hands.

She looks at it.

Adora sighs.

“… we don’t really need a sheet, do we?” Catra asks after a long moment of staring defeat in the eye. Adora buries her face in her hands and laughs.

Catra jolts awake and can feel the sweat beading on her forehead. The dream takes a moment to leave her—she scrabbles for purchase in the blankets, breathes in big, gulping breaths when her lungs finally allow it, staring at the ceiling lit in the soft lavender glow of the nightlight until her heart calms down enough to let her think.

She turns her head on the pillow. Adora is curled in, facing her, and her eyes are open.

“Hi,” she says after a moment.

Catra swallows; her throat is unbearably dry.

“Hi.”

Adora reaches her hand between them. Catra takes it, palm sweaty. Adora lets it rest there for a moment then twists her palm, bends her fingers and then they’re holding hands properly, Catra’s pulse thrumming at her wrist.

“Bad dream?” Adora whispers, and Catra closes her eyes, nods. “Hey.” She opens them again. “You’re safe,” she says. “I have you.” Catra blinks. Adora says it again. She closes her eyes and feels Adora brush a kiss against her forehead.

Sleep doesn’t come again, but she holds hands with Adora until dawn.

She tacks the note from Adora in the wall above their bed beside the sprig of dried flowers Adora picked last month.

_taking swiftie out for a ride you know how he gets back by dinner love you!!!!!!! a_

She sits back on the bed and looks at the collage in front of her. There’s an unflattering drawing of the two of them done by Netossa; a diagram of constellations Bow had made with his dads and handed out to everyone; a paper snowflake from Glimmer courtesy of Perfuma’s arts and crafts day.

Too many handwritten notes to count.

_gone running with bow flowers when i come home y/n?_

_down for breakfast early will save you that gloop you like get some rest xx_

_c i can’t sleep for thoughts of you your hands that bone below your neck the way you sound when i **** *** i am yours always a_

Catra presses her thumb into the hollow between her clavicles, feels the pressure in her throat as she swallows. Reaches for the paper by the bed, writes—

_a_

_there are so many things i want to say to you_

_you make me_

_i can’t breathe sometimes when you_

Puts the paper down, breathes out. They have time.

Catra wakes with the sun. Adora is sprawled out beside her, snoring softly. Even in sleep her brow creases—Catra smooths it out, gently, so Adora won’t stir.

It’s been a year.

Catra’s hair has grown out and brushes her shoulders. She’s thought about cutting it again but Adora won’t hear of it, lets Glimmer braid it out of her face instead. She has the nightmares less and less, and never wakes up alone. She learns how to breathe to calm down and say _I love you_ without her voice shaking. She knows what Adora feels like, pressed right together tip to toe. Could draw her in the dark, if she asked. Trace the smile that comes so easy to both of them now.

Adora grumbles into the pillow and inhales a mouthful of hair, coughs, and jolts awake. She spits out the offending strands and blinks at Catra blearily, eyes crusty with sleep. There’s a red crease on her cheek from the pillow, and she’s the most beautiful person Catra has ever seen.

“What?” she asks, the word half a yawn. “Do I have something on my face?”

Catra laughs, and runs her finger along the bow of Adora’s lips, who parts them. “Just your face,” she replies, and Adora shoves at her. “I’m _kidding_.” Adora huffs and Catra smiles, pulls her close so they’re curled in on one another, lazy parentheses. “Go back to sleep,” she whispers, kissing her hair, “—I’m not going anywhere.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on twitter @[svnsvstvrk](https://twitter.com/svnsvstvrk)
> 
>  **edit 25/05:** noelle drew [post-finale art](https://twitter.com/Gingerhazing/status/1264350073158156288?s=20) that is basically the final scene of this and now i am at peace


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